A VALENTINE FOR MY DAUGHTERS

The whirlwind of adolescent doubts and pressure was making regular runs through our house. So on Valentine’s Day 1997, I wrote the following for each of my daughters:

I have a special gift for you. My gift is warmth at night and sunlit afternoons, chuckles and giggles and happy Saturdays. Is there a store which sells laughter? A catalog that offers kisses? No. Such a treasure can’t be bought. But it can be given.

Your Valentine’s Day gift is a promise, a promise that I will always love your mother. With God as my helper, I will never leave her. You’ll never come home to find me gone. You’ll never wake up and find that I have run away. You’ll always have two parents. I will love your mother. I will honor your mother. I will cherish your mother. That’s my promise, and that’s my gift.

Love, Dad

Devotion by Max Lucado | The Almighty Jehovah | https://thealmightyJehovah.com

The Next Door Savior

In the aftermath of 9/11 a group of religious leaders was invited to come to Washington and pray with President Bush. The group was well-frocked and well-known. You might wonder if I felt out of place. The only time I wear a robe is when I step out of the shower.

But when it came my turn to meet George W. Bush, I added, “And Mr. President, I was raised in Andrews, Texas—a half-hour drive from your hometown.” He smiled that lopsided smile and let his accent drawl ever so slightly. “Why, I know your town. I’ve walked those streets. I’ve even played your golf course.” It was nice to know that the president knew my home.

How much nicer to know the same about God. Yes, he rules the universe. Yes, he has walked your streets. He’s still the next door Savior. Jesus – above all powers? You bet he is!

You will Never Have To

Suppose you were to stand on a stage while a film of every secret and selfish moment of your life was projected on the screen behind you. Would you not scream for the heavens to have mercy? And would you not feel just a fraction of what Christ felt on the cross? The icy displeasure of a sin-hating God.

The Bible says Christ carried all our sins in his body. See Christ on the cross? That’s a gossiper hanging there. See Jesus? Embezzler. Liar. Bigot. “Hold it, Max! Don’t you lump Christ with those evildoers.” I didn’t. He did. More than place his name in the same sentence, he placed himself in their place. And yours! With hands nailed open, he invited God, “Treat me as you would them.” And God did.

“My God my God, why did you abandon me?” Why did Jesus scream those words? Simple – so that you’ll never have to.

A VALENTINE FOR MY DAUGHTERS